She's With Me
by jarran
Summary: Liz learns the hard way what happens when Red gets jealous. And she thought she was the only one feeling possessive... (Red/Liz.)


**I own nothing. Just a humble french fan here that desired to write a jealous Red. Not sure what you'll think but letting me know is appreciated. I apologize for any bad grammar!**

* * *

 _ **She's With Me**_

"You know what you need?" Samar had said to Liz one afternoon musingly while they were finishing up in the Post Office. "A date, Agent Keen. You need to live a little and have some fun, maybe find yourself a hot date to go home with at the end of the night."

"Oh, God, I don't know about that," Liz had said in response reluctantly. "After all that's happened lately, I think a dates the very last thing that I need right now."

"Well, just consider it, huh? No pressure. I happen to have a close friend who I feel would be very interested in you..."

It had started from there; Some harmless chit chat between two Agents. But once Agent Navabi had actually planted the seed inside her head, Liz had wondered if, perhaps, maybe she was right. After her previous experiences with Tom, Liz felt in no way ready. But perhaps it was exactly just what she needed? Something fun and non-serious, for one night, at the very least?

Really, when she thought about it, Liz had spent months working on end without so much as even one full day off to herself. Work filled up most of her time, so much so that it was hardly even possible for her to entertain the thought of attempting to have a serious relationship with a man. Working a stressful job with unpredictable hours certainly didn't leave much room in her life for dating.

But, for one night, Liz decided she might as well take Samar up on her word. Tonight, she was going to go out on the prowl. Even if she simply ended up going out and buying herself a drink- she figured she deserved it; That one rare night to completely let loose and do something for herself for a change, something that didn't revolve around making the world a better place in capturing wanted criminals.

If anyone deserved a light and easy night off by themselves to celebrate their hard work and successes, Liz figured it was her. So, she vowed to herself, next night, she would get dressed into the nicest clothes she could and head out for the night rather than going straight home to bed in one of her stuffy motel rooms.

When Liz unlocked her motel room and slipped inside, she went immediately over to her suitcase of clothes, dragging her feet.

She felt bone-tired and exhausted mentally, as she always tended to do after having spent the entire day working on a case to bring in the next target on Reddington's list. She desired nothing more than to retreat into her usual routine of bringing home take-out, changing out of her clothes into her bathrobe, and lounging around in bed eating. Instead, she wanted tonight to be different. She pushed those feelings of exhaustion aside to find something decent to wear for the evening, settling on a pair of black skinny leg jeans and a red blouse. Once she got changed and actually put more of an effort into putting on some make-up and lipstick, she noticed the tiredness gradually leave her body. She was going out of her way to treat herself tonight, and that was exciting.

There was a bar across the street from the motel she was currently staying in, so she decided it was a decent enough start. She'd start slow, then work herself up. That way, if she went a little overboard with the drinks, at least her room was barely a street across from her. Finding her leather purse, she slid it over her shoulder before sitting on the edge of the bed to slip each foot into a pair of comfortable ankle boots. Then she locked up her room and shut her keys into her purse before making the walk across the road to the bar.

When she pushed her way in through the front door, she took a quick and curious inspection. The bar was really nothing all that fancy and special; In fact, it was rather tame. Eighties music was playing from a jukebox at the back of the room, There was a pool table where a group of men were currently playing at. The long oak counter appeared as if it had been polished recently, and there were only three people sitting across from it in stools while the bartender fussed around.

All in all, it was exactly the small and relaxing place Liz needed just to have a quiet drink all by herself.

Approaching the counter, the bartender immediately stopped what he was doing to serve her. There was nothing quite like quick and speedy service. She ordered a beer, going out of her way to ignore the three men sitting at the bar as they whistled at her and said some sleazy comments, which she paid no real attention to. She delved a hand inside her purse, snatching out a couple of notes to hand the bartender for her beer. Drink in hand, she turned and surveyed the room for somewhere cozy to sit.

Lifting the strap of her purse off her shoulder, she plopped it down on the table before sitting, stretching her legs out underneath the table while she took a small sip of her beer. This was definitely nice, she had to admit to herself. With no interruptions and no one possibly in sight that recognized her, this could actually start to be some type of hobby she could take up after a hard days work.

For some reason, it hadn't occurred to her to glance properly around every nook and cranny of the bar. When she heard it, she had been about to swallow down another mouthful of her beer. She almost choked.

Laughter. Loud boisterous laughter came unnervingly close to her table from two men. One of their laughter was very distinct and recognizable; A laugh that could have only belong to one person in particular. Liz felt herself tense up, her mind suddenly feeling paralyzed.

Red. Goddamn him, Red was in the bar. She'd recognize that laugh from a mile away.

"You're kidding me," she grumbled under her breath, before shifting around in her seat, looking around for him suspiciously.

 _So much for it being a peaceful and enjoyable night, all to herself..._

Unless... she was mistaken. She couldn't see Reddington anywhere in the bar, despite hearing his laughter. Liz assumed that she was probably only just being paranoid. As if Red would degrade himself into dining in a crummy little bar such as this...

A movement caught her eye from the side of the table and as she glanced up, a man was standing there. He looked her age, give or take a few years. His hair was dark and tousled, his eyes a dull brown. Very handsome.

"Mind if I join you?" the man asked uncertainly. "I couldn't help noticing you sitting here alone."

With Samar's advice in the back of her mind, Liz smiled while making room for him on the seat. Just as she was about to answer verbally, she was left momentarily speechless when someone else did it for her.

"Yes, she actually _does_ mind if you join her. She's _with me_."

Liz was so stunned and disbelieving of her bad fortune that she hardly noticed and took attention of the man that was now standing across from the other man.

Red.

So she hadn't merely been suspicious after all. There was a dangerous undercurrent to Red's measured voice that Liz caught. As if him and the other man were in a desert somewhere, having a Mexican stand-off in the attempt to battle for her attentions, ridiculously enough.

The man paled to Red in comparison and, no doubt, Red was fully aware.

Liz's eyes swept down the length of him in surprise; He was wearing a black fedora this evening. A white dress shirt with a black vest, and black trousers. The sleeves were folded at the elbows and the color of the ensemble went with his fedora so impeccably. So impossibly suave, yet when her eyes did a quick inspection of Red's face, there was nothing refined about the way he was staring at the man. He looked like a dog about rearing and ready to bite. Red's jaw was clenched tight, his eyes hardened slits. If looks could have killed, that poor guy would have been lying dead on the floor.

Liz could hardly remember how to breathe when Red turned his head to peer down at her, his tongue pushing out his cheek. His hooded gaze positively devoured her.

What was he doing in the same bar as her? Was this a huge set-up? Was he taking his protectiveness of her one step further by stalking her?

"The girl," Red went on, his eyes not leaving hers. His voice became lower, gravelly. Staking his claim. "The girl is with me. And that's where she stays; with me."

Was he really doing this, right now? God, even when they weren't working on cases together, clearly Red was happy to play the role of ultra-protective wolf. He reminded her of some wild animal hell-bent on both defending and protecting his mate. A surge of irritation hit her.

"No, I'm not," she finally spoke up, her voice unsteady. "I'm not here with him. I'm alone. He was just leaving, weren't you, Red?"

There. That did it. That did not make him very happy, that comment. He pressed his lips together, his lips thinning out into a thin line. But what the hell did he expect?

"Awesome. In that case, you want to get out of here?" The man asked her in a carefree manner, ignoring Red's comment. "Let's take a walk?" Brave. He was definitely brave. Clearly the man had no clue who he was dealing with, when it came to Red. But she was pleased, nevertheless.

Yes, she found she did want to take a walk with the man. Anything was better than having to put up with Red for the night while he was being so ridiculous like this.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do want to take a walk," she admitted, deliberately glancing away from Red as she stood from the chair. She was playing a dangerous game; that she knew. But damn it, if she wasn't enjoying every minute of it. "At least _someone_ here isn't going to treat me like a child. I don't appreciate you stalking me, or whatever the hell it is that you're doing," she added under her breath, solely for Red's benefit, while picking up her beer.

When she moved out from the chair, she made the mistake of glancing at Red before she went.

He looked, simply put, like a man on the verge of embarking on a murderous rampage. His nostrils flared as his eyes bore into hers.

"Oh, I can assure you that you are no child to me, Lizzie," he managed, his voice dangerously low.

"Really? I find that hard to believe, considering how you're acting."

The tension was thick, palpable in the air. Liz wasn't sure what Red was going to do and, honestly, she both enjoyed it and dreaded it. This was her part in taking control of her own life. For once, she was doing things her way. Red cocked his head to the side and Liz noticed the way his eyes slid all over her, taking in her clothes. The look was heated, like he was undressing her mentally- something that was the very last reaction she had expected from him. The mere action of him checking out what she was wearing made her feel disturbingly warm and as she sprang to leave with the man, she very nearly jumped out of her skin when Red caught her by the wrist with a hand tightly, pulling her back. Her insides danced in trepidation as he moved close enough to put his mouth by her ear.

"Lizzie, I urge you not to do this." His words were urgent and filled with dire warning.

"Oh, yeah? Why shouldn't I?"

"Because you hardly know the man. If you're going to be reckless, I would prefer you do it with someone you know. Preferably me."

There he was, like always, making her feel as though she was a scolded child, and not a grown-ass woman. He was always painting himself out to be the ever-responsible one when it came to Liz making decisions for herself, and it grated on her nerves.

"What I choose to do in my own private life and with whom, is none of your business, Red," she spat out impulsively through her teeth, wrenching her arm out of his grip. "Now if you'll excuse me, we're going for a walk," she said meaningfully, breaking free from him.

"Lizzie, if you're going to go down this path, then I seriously urge you to do it with me. You're-"

"This is my life, I can do whatever the hell I want with it. I just want one part of my life that is completely mine where you're not interfering. So watch me," she interrupted.

Outside, she took compulsive sips of her drink while staring up at the night sky bitterly as they walked. She couldn't believe the nerve Reddington had, yet again. When was it finally going to sink in that she wanted him nowhere near her personal business? He was ruining her life! Ruining and meddling with it! In fact, she was so aggravated that she could hardly care to listen to what the man was saying, as he walked beside her at a leisurely pace. When she turned to glance at him again, she saw that the man had stopped still.

"I'm sorry. Did you just say something?" she asked.

"Er, yes. I need to take a leak."

It was off-putting, the man telling her that. But really, when you've got to go, you've got to go. "Um, okay. I guess I'll wait right here, huh?"

The man scurried off into a cover of thick bushes and when Liz heard him pull the zipper down on his trousers, she looked away quickly. What was she doing, really? She supposed Reddington was right, in that she didn't know this man. Still, she had been working her ass off for months. She deserved a little relaxing drink, didn't she? She-

Suddenly something caught her attention.

A rustling sound came from in the direction of the bushes where the man was peeing, followed by a pained "Oomph."

When she glanced back while holding the nozzle of her beer to her lips, it occurred to her how worryingly quiet the man was being. She couldn't even hear him moving or the sound of him urinating, no less. Something was just not right.

"Um, Sir?" she called nervously, belatedly realizing she hadn't bothered to ask him what his name was. When no response came, she tried again, but louder. "Sir, are you still out here? You're taking an extraordinarily long time to pee?"

When still no answer came from the man, Liz started to grow increasingly worried. Approaching the bushes, she didn't need to even completely look at him to know what had happened. He was lying on the ground at a funny angle. When she crouched down to check his pulse, the man had only simply been knocked out cold. At least he wasn't dead, then... As the dots slowly began to connect together, Liz leaned back on the heels of her boots while slapping her hand against her thigh.

"Red, you son of a bitch!" She very nearly shouted.


End file.
